


Exaggeration

by gala_apples



Series: If Love is a Mixtape [3]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-X1, Bobby and John attend a dance. John uses an interesting form of persuasion to make Bobby go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exaggeration

**Author's Note:**

> Title: If Love is a Mixtape  
> Idea summary: then life is the tracks you listen to. (each story was written while listening to one song on repeat, for however long it took. In the case of side A track 5, that means a 3 minute song on repeat for about 6 hours. *head bash*)
> 
> Side A: Bobby  
> Track 3: Diana Ross- I'm Coming Out. Lyric used was "I'm coming out, I want the world to know, gotta let it show".

"John?" 

Bobby's standing in front of the huge mirror rimmed in golden paint. Their entire room is dark wood and gold highlights, save for the replacement lamp on Bobby's nightstand. The old one with the proper golden base has been substituted with a cheaper plastic globe, with innumerable holes where the light shines out. Scott brought home a plastic replacement after their conversation of why the old ceramic lamp broke. 

The conversation had been held with quiet voices, both men shading deeper and deeper red with blush as the explanation went on. Words about how one of them kicked it, they didn't mean to, -who kicked it, how did you not mean to kick a lamp, you have to kick up into the air to break it- I'm not sure who kicked it sir, and you don't have to kick up if it's level with a bed and there's someone on a bed- why were you both level with the... oh...- yes, sir. 

John and Bobby don't have perfectly matching furniture anymore, but they have at least one teacher's understanding. Neither know if Scott had told any other staff, but he tends to be their advisor for any questions about the future. They don't need everyone to know everything about their life, both are content to let people guess and assume whatever they want.

Or at least, Bobby thought they were both content. Then the theme of the dance Jean puts on every first Sunday was declared. Now Bobby's not sure if he does know everything John thinks. He certainly hadn't expected this, after all.

"What? I'm busy, here." John shouts from the Jack and Jill bathroom. The door to their bedroom is open, the door to the other bathroom is locked. It's the small things, like locks on doors, for which Bobby is grateful. It's going to be bad enough to walk out in the halls, to be in a decorated gym with seventy other students. The last thing he needs is Sam and Piotr walking in on them getting ready.

"I'm having serious, serious second thoughts." Looking at what he's wearing, how could he not desperately want to avoid leaving their bedroom?

"Stop being a baby. You're lucky to be wearing what you are. Better than me!" He has to shout to make himself heard over the running water. Bobby once again resists turning his head. If he does, he'll see John naked in the shower, curtain wrinkled dry against the wall. They haven't showered with the door closed in ages. But now is not the time to be turned on by John Allerdyce, now is the time to form a intelligent argument against wearing these goddamn costumes. 

When John's comment reaches his brain, Bobby realises it's also time to make John see the truth. "Bullshit. I completely call bullshit on that. Look at what I'm _wearing_! Look at what you're not! At least you're going to look hot, damn it."

"I'll look hot, but I'll be freezing cold. You remember how horrible that gym is during morning classes." Like any fire, John takes awhile to warm up. Every morning it's an epic battle to get John out of the covers. It takes promises of hugs and hoodies and 'you can use your lighter to warm your hands if no one sees'. By lunch he's normal temperature, but much more susceptible to cold than Bobby. He doesn't know if it has to do with his power, John's power, or if it doesn't have to do with either and John is just a wimp for temperatures. "It'll suck. We all have to face our troubles. Suck it up Bobby, and accept it."

A small part of him wants to kill John for being so damn stubborn. Most of him allocates the hypothetical killing to Dr Grey for making tonight's theme Exaggeration. With something that vague she had to know that the crazier students would use it as an excuse to do crazy things. For example, Bobby's heard Dani's going to wear a sheer teddie because she causes people's nightmares, and for once she wants to be a dream. Considering that girl's body, at least from an aesthetic perspective, Bobby's sure she'll cause mass drooling in the students.

The phrasing of John's words reminds Bobby of a pleasant possibility. "I'll wear this goddamn costume if I get some sort of reward for doing it." 

"I'm in the shower, you idiot. I'm busy. This is taking longer then I thought it would." 

Bobby has to agree with that. John's been in the shower for at least half an hour shaving. "Well, use the rest of your time thinking of a convincing bribe. Persuasion, if you will. Until then, I'll be waiting." Worrying is more like it. There's a lot riding on John's assumption that the rest of the students and teachers aren't bigots. Bobby has no idea how much longer he'll have to stay here to master his ability, never mind that he wants to stay forever. If tonight goes badly, they both might have to stay with a supremely bad atmosphere around them.

For lack of anything better to do, he looks at himself in the mirror again. It's horrible. A bright pink polo shirt starts off the ensemble. Forgivable, even though it's not 1983 and he's not on Miami Vice. But the sea foam sweater dangling down his back, sleeves draped delicately on his shoulders; that just kills the entire 'still possibly straight' idea. And when he looks at the white and red scarf tied around his neck, he just wants to cry.

The theme of the dance is exaggeration, and three weeks ago John told Bobby they were going to be the gayest gay men ever. Bobby had laughed it off as a joke until three days ago, when John had rementioned his idea. Then, yesterday, John told him he'd gotten the costumes, and Bobby's stomach had turned, thinking of all the horrible stereotypes and possibilities. What he hadn't figured was that he'd look so awful. At least in leatherman clothes he'd look hot. But in this; this 35 year old man wants to adopt a Chinese baby outfit? It's horrible, and John better come up with pretty damn good persuasion, or he's not leaving the room.

Oh fuck, who is he kidding? He'd go anyway, because John wanted him too. Because it would hurt John to (on the surface) refuse to get enthused about an idea that he finds exciting. Deeper down, Bobby knows it's really that John wants them to come out as a couple, and of course he has to do it in the most complicated and irritating way, like he does every other thing. If he refuses this, then he's telling John he doesn't want to be known as a couple. Regardless of what Bobby chooses, he knows John will be coming out tonight. The question is, is will he join John? Walk into the dance holding hands and answer stupid questions all night?

The answer is, regardless of John's persuasion, yes he will. But he still wants his persuasion, damn it.

It doesn't take very long for the taps to turn, and the water to stop. John bounds out of the bathroom, feet slipping on the white tile. "Got an idea!" he says breathlessly, nearly tumbling into Bobby in his hurry. He grabs Bobby's shoulders by the awful sweater, and straightens.

"I've gotten an idea for persuasion," he repeats, this time in more control of himself. He shivers as the rapidly cooling water drips down his body. Bobby loves to watch John in the shower, loves to warm him up after he steps into the cold air. Towels have become a thing of the past.

"You do, do you?" He can't help the sarcastic tinge, though he knows that if he pushes John too much, John's likely to tell him to fuck off. The firestarter isn't good with being teased. Yet another reason Bobby's concerned about tonight. If too many dumb asses make too many jokes, John's liable to set something on fire.

"Think I do," he responds, and drops to his knees. John's nimble fingers undo the zipper of his white pressed khakis -white!- and he pulls them halfway down Bobby's thighs. His underwear comes down next, while his dick goes rapidly up. It's both a curse and a nice part of being a teenager, needing no touching to be in the mood. John leans forward and blows air around the tip of his cock. 

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" His mouth hovers expectantly, as he waits for Bobby to answer. Bobby takes a second to get back to coherency.

"I'm thinking good thoughts. So get to it. Please." Always use manners, an admonition by his mother and Xavier. 

That seems good enough for John, Bobby sighs deeply as he leans forward and wraps his fantastic lips around his dick. Wet and warm and fucking wonderful, he loves getting head from John. His hands cast around for something to grab onto, he knows better than to grasp John's hair. The teen stops the moment Bobby does, every time. He claims it ruins his technique. 

Instead, his fingers dig into the bottom of his shirt. The hem's an inch away from his dick, his fingers dangerously near John's head. The shirt is going to wrinkle, but he doesn't care. There's a list of important things in his life, and clothes in general are not on the list. This stupid pink shirt is lower then 0 on his list.

It doesn't take long for his balls to draw up. It's a trifecta of perfection; John's great at anything sexual, Bobby's a horny teenager, and Bobby loves John and love makes sex better. He's about to warn John, when the boy slips his mouth away. Bobby can't help but whine, wondering why John's decided to not swallow tonight. It's usually a 80/20 chance.

But not only does John move away, he stands and smirks. "I'll finish after the dance."

"Whyah?" No, that's so not cool that there can't possibly be words to explain it. John can't just abandon him! He can't abandon his _cock_!

"You said think of persuasion. I thought it would be the best way. I even asked you if we thought the same thing. I guess we weren't, huh?" at that, John snickers. As much as Bobby loves him, at that moment he wants nothing more then to punch John in the nose.

"Look, after we get back from the dance, I'll suck you off all night long. As many times as you can get hard." The imagery is not helping his neglected dick settle back down. "But right now, we're going to the dance. So tuck in your shirt, adjust your sweater, and lets get going."

"In five minutes we'll go to the dance. Right now, I get to hate you." Waddling to the bathroom, pants still around his thighs, he stops in front of the sink. It's a few seconds work to get himself off, come hitting the back of the porcelain basin.

Bobby sighs heavily when he enters their bedroom again. John's changed into his exaggerated costume too, and Bobby's still sure that he got the better pick. He's wearing very short white shorts, a puca shell necklace, and a white cowboy hat with the string in rainbow colours. John's upper body and legs are completed shaved, and he's gorgeous. As far as stereotypes go, John got to be the 'Justin', he got to be the 'Ted'.

"After the dance, I swear to God..." he threatens.

"I think you'll be screaming God, actually," John replies, and they leave their bedroom.

***

The moment they get back into their room, Bobby rushes to untie the ascot. It's a evil thing, he can't imagine actually being gay enough to wear one on purpose. His fingers work on the too tight knot, more then once tonight John has pulled him around by the silky fabric. Finally it undoes, he crumples the fabric and tosses it into a corner.

"Let's review." John is digging through his chest of drawers, ass presented spectacularly to Bobby. He pulls out a sweater and drags it on. Like they'd both predicted, John had been freezing cold the entire night. "Some people claimed they knew all along."

"And you didn't laugh in their faces." It was good of John to not straight out ridicule the nosy idiots, Bobby's proud of his boyfriend's restraint.

"And some people were teasing."

"And you didn't punch them!" Though Kitty had gotten really upset, and screamed at a few to stop being homophobic. If Bobby's up for a guess, he'd say Kitty's the most likely candidate to be their faghag. He's heard that every 'proper' gay man has one. 

"And a few were downright bigoted." At this John glares. Bobby's not stupid enough to think it's himself that's being glared at. When John's angry, it's him against the world. It follows then, that he glares at everything that's not him. Bobby the boyfriend best friend isn't being glared at, Bobby the member of the human race is being glared at.

"And you didn't set them on fire!" It's a compliment to his control, not a compliment to the action. Really, Bobby wouldn't care if homophobes were set on fire.

"All in all, a good night's work." 

John's face quickly changes to a smile as he walks the few feet to Bobby. He puts his arms around John's lower back and holds him close. He loves being taller than John, being able to smell his hair when they lean against each other. The smaller boy tilts his head up and they touch lips. It's less a kiss, more an affirmation of mutual affection. A kiss that proves they'll always be together, not a kiss of seduction and fluctuating hormones.

When they separate, Bobby remembers to add, "You forgot about those who claimed to fully support us. That was happy-making, wouldn't you say?"

"I'd say I didn't care. Scott did what we needed him to do when we needed it, to stay quiet. Now that we don't have to be quiet anymore, we don't need anyone."

"I guarantee you John, you've never been quiet a moment of your life." He grins toothfully at his boyfriend, echoes of countless nights of moaning in his head. 

"So, how about that blowjob?" John grins back. Bobby lowers his hands a few inches, grabs onto the asscheeks still squeezed into tidy white shorts. 

"How about I take this stupid fucking sweater off and then we have sex?"

"I," his hands sneak between their bodies and Bobby melts as John grabs him back "am always open to alternative ideas. I'm a free thinker, I guess."

Bobby wants to laugh at loud at the image of bohemian John that pops into his head. John looks ridiculous in a beret and a goatee. But laughter isn't conducive to raging passionate sex, so he holds off. Instead he manoeuvres John towards his bed. It's been hours since the last time they've had sex, simply too long.


End file.
